Courageous
by CookiesN'Cream124
Summary: To some, courage is the voice at the end of the day that says 'I will try again tomorrow'… But for Andy McNally, it's the voice inside her head that says 'I won't stop until I find you.'
1. Chapter 1

I didn't plan on posting this for awhile, but the reason I did is all explained in an A/N below. Enjoy.

* * *

One woman brings her car to a stop in front of a familiar curb, while another woman rushes through her house, cleaning in some places, and creating a bigger mess in others. They're both oblivious as to what the other is doing… all they know is they both have to stop each other from doing what they're _about_ to do.

Andy is too focused on the task at hand to register the knocking on her front door. She moves methodically around her room grabbing clothes from here and there, throwing them haphazardly into the open suitcase on her bed. After 5 minutes, Traci uses her spare key to get into Andy's house when her knocks go unanswered. Her heels click on the hardwood floor as she walks into the master bedroom.

"Andy, you don't want to do this." She crosses her arms in front of her chest and stands in the doorway.

"Don't try to talk me out of this, Traci." Andy slams a drawer shut and moves towards the closet. She bends down to rummage on the floor, looking for a pair of shoes she knows she has but can't remember where she put them.

"You're making a mistake."

"How?!" Andy stands up abruptly and throws the shoes currently in her hands onto the floor. "For the first time in a long time, I have something to fight for. I've spent the last 2 months of my life sitting on a couch and running on auto-pilot, Traci. I want to take my life back. Give me one reason to let this go. Just one good reason and I'll forget about it." She stares into Traci's eyes for a second before she bends back down and grabs the shoes she originally wanted. She walks back to the suitcase and zippers them into the top portion.

"Andy… I have a lot of reasons-" Traci starts to speak, but Andy cuts her off.

"I don't care how many you have, I only asked for one. I have things to do, Trace, and all you can do is stand here and stall? Give me your best answer, or get out." She snaps at her friend and blows her bangs out of her eyes.

"If you would cut the attitude for a second and let me finish," Traci snaps back at her, "You would've known I wasn't done."

" I have a lot of reasons that I could give you." Traci says and Andy sighs. "But I know you well enough to know that none of them are good enough to get you to stay." Andy's head snaps around to look at her.

"But before you go, I want you to be sure about this. And I mean really sure."

"I'm sure, Traci. I know I can bring him home." They stand in front of each other.

"I don't agree with this, but that won't stop you. So all I can say is be careful. I can't lose you." Traci wraps her arms around Andy's neck, and squeezes tight. They release, and Traci opens the purse hanging on her arm.

"And take this with you." Traci pulls a foldable knife out of her purse. "Jerry gave it to me when I first got cut loose. I carried it on me every day I was on patrol. Here's the leg harness. You can hide it on any outfit." She puts a black strap in Andy's outstretched hand.

"Thanks." Andy says, "I'll carry it everywhere."

"Good," Traci continues to rummage through her purse. "And here's a prepaid cell. It's never been used, and it can't be traced. Hide it somewhere, and if you ever need help, I'm speed dial 1, and Frank is 2. Oliver is 3." She spins around to walk back out the door. She puts a hand on the doorframe and turns back towards Andy.

"Jesus, Andy," Traci breathes out. "Be careful." She lifts her hand and swipes at her eyes before walking through the door.

Andy watched her receding form until she leaves her line of sight, and continues to stare out the door. She listens as Traci's heels resound throughout the house, clicking in a steady rhythm. It isn't until she hears the front door latch that she whispers, "I will."

* * *

She has to type his number into the keypad three different times before her shaking fingers get it right. With one hand on the steering wheel, she brings the phone to her ear and listens to the phone ring once, twice, three times before his groggy voice comes over the line.

"Hello."

"Sam."

"McNally, it's 3 in the morning. I just got off shift a couple of hours ago and-"

"I need you to know that there's no other way." She interrupts his lecture on calling him before 10 in the morning. It's a conversation they've had many times these last two months.

"What are you talking about?" His voice loses all hints of grogginess that were there before, and she can visualize him sitting up straight in bed and switching the phone to the other ear, as if he believes he'll hear her better.

"If there was, I wouldn't be doing this. You have to know that." She bites her lip as she looks out the window.

"Andy, where are you? What are you doing?" A hint of panic presents itself.

"I'm driving. Sam, promise me you won't try to stop me."

"How can I stop you if I don't even know what you're doing?"

"You can't, and that's why you need to promise me right here, right now, that you will not try to stop me. If you can't promise me that, I can't tell you what I'm doing, and I don't want to keep this a secret from you."

Sam wipes his hand across his face and lets out a sigh.

"I promise."

"I'm bringing him home." She whispers.

"No. You can't go after him." Sam jumps up from the bed and holds the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulls on clothes.

"You promised me, Sam. You promised."

"Dammit, Andy, I didn't know you were planning this! It's too dangerous! You're gonna get yourself killed!" His volume rises until he's nearly shouting.

"Sam, I…"

"No! Come home."

"I can't."

"Why?! Why can't you let the police handle this? You're making this personal, and that'll get both of you killed."

"You think I'm _making _this personal? Let me tell you what's personal… Personal is getting your hands ripped apart. Personal is screaming his name as they drag you away from each other. _Personal_, Sam, is promising him that you would bring him home. That you would look for him every single day, and not stop until you found him. I'm not _making_ anything. This got personal a long time ago."

"Andy…"

"I can't sit here anymore, okay? I got a call yesterday from the people who have him." She confesses.

"Why didn't you tell me." He sighs.

"Because you would've spent every single second trying to get me to stay… And I'm not completely sure I wouldn't have."

He begins to speak, but she cuts him off.

"Listen, I know it's stupid. I know the chances of them actually honoring the deal on the phone are slim-to-none. But I have a _chance_. For the last two months, everyone's tiptoed around while going crazy on the inside, because there was no leads, no clues, no evidence other than the room we were held in… I _promised_ him, Sam. I _promised_ I would bring him home. And for the love of God, _please_ know that I love you…"

"But I'll be damned if I don't even try."

* * *

**Despite the fact I only have three chapters of this story written, I have decided to post it today. Mostly because I have something to share with you.**

**My town is very small, and as a result, we're very close-knit. When someone dies or is struck by tragedy, it isn't just close friends and family who are affected, it's everyone. This year… It's been really hard. We have lost three extremely involved members of the community already this year, one to suicide, one to brain cancer, and the third to a freak motorcycle accident. A month ago, a man committed suicide in a gas station parking lot after an argument with his ex-wife, one of our town council members. And just a few short weeks ago, a young woman who had just graduated high school in May was struck with cancer… for her fourth time. She's already lost a leg to this disease, battled 3 different rounds of Chemo and Radiation, and now she has an aggressive tumor in her brain. She's a remarkable girl who has become a role model in my life.**

**And three days ago, we lost two more. **

**Now, these two boys weren't staples in our community. In fact, very little is known about them. But because of that, not only am I sad, I'm confused. The first, his name was Matt. And honestly, I know nothing about him. I'd never even heard of him before today. But what I **_**can**_** tell you, is he shot himself in the head on Friday. He was dead when the ambulance got there. And the second, was a kid named Wyatt. He overdosed. His ambulance call was received not even 10 minutes after Matt's. Now, his death hit me a lot harder than Matt's. Probably because I can actually tell you a little about him. He was a super senior. Which, although I'd never heard the term before school today, is what stupid kids call fifth year high school students. He dropped out before the second semester of his Senior year, and decided to re-enroll and get his diploma this year. I was in band with him, and what really makes me sad is I never got the chance to know him. I guess it's that I never truly cared. But now I do, and it's too late. I did talk to him a couple times. And although he smoked and most people tell me he was "half- stoned" all the time, I can't help but feel that he was genuinely a nice person. It's shocking how circumstances affect a person. I can't help but wonder… what if he hadn't been harassed about his Super Senior status? What if some **_**good**_** kids had taken the time to get to know him and become positive influences in his life, rather than just casting him away to hang with the druggies and boozers? I can't help but ask myself… how many lives could be saved if people just stopped for a second and looked at the world around them? I wish I could say I got to know Wyatt, or even Matt. But I can't. And even though I never knew them, their deaths have impacted my life and made me a better person. I'm no longer going to be sitting on the sidelines when I can stand up and impact somebody's life. I can sit here and rant about suicide being selfish and stupid for hours, but truthfully, what have I ever done to prevent it?**

**This story, although not finished and probably not going to be for a while, is dedicated to Matt and Wyatt. May they rest in peace.**


	2. Chapter 2

Andy tentatively walks into the bullpen of 15 Division, where the late shift hasn't ended and Frank's shift hasn't technically started. But ever since that night two months ago, when one of his officer's came home and another disappeared, he's been slipping out of the house he and Noelle share to pour over a case file. Their case file.

She's been coming in at this time every day since it happened, but the stillness and lack of bustling activity inside her second home never fails to unnerve her. The only officer's on the floor at this time in the morning are manning desk and booking, so the sound of people moving and papers being flipped, along with the occasional joke shouted across the bullpen, are all glaringly absent. It spooks her to be honest, all too reminiscent of a funeral, rather than the active and never boring Division she knows.

This secret morning ritual came about at about three in the morning, three days after she was rescued. She and Frank both had the same idea, evidently, as he walked into his – previously locked – office, only to find McNally sitting in the chairs in front of his desk, booted foot propped up and thick case file in her lap. She looked up with a startled expression on her face, too shocked to stand up or speak. She knew she was busted, and in all honesty, she was expecting him to ask for her badge on the spot. But instead, he asked a simple, "Find anything?"

At her negative reply, he sat down in his chair and started reading.

So walking in this morning, boot gone and bruises healed, she knows he'll be in his office, with the shades drawn and no light other than his desk lamp. He'll be leaning back in his chair, hand lightly grasping his chin, tapping his lip with his index finger while he reads every single paper, every paragraph, every sentence, every word.

But it wasn't enough anymore. They've given up sleep for last two months in the hope that something new will suddenly appear and Nick will come home. But they have every paper memorized. They've read each sentence hundreds of times, and nothing ever changes. But to stop looking through those reports and witness statements would be like admitting the case has gone cold. It would be admitting failure. It would be admitting that he was gone for good. And they couldn't accept that. They _wouldn't_ accept that.

And now they won't have to.

She walks into their meeting place of the last two months, back straight and shoulders squared. He looks up from the paper in his hand when she doesn't sit, and takes off his reading glasses and leans back in his chair when he sees the determined glint in her eyes. A part of him knows what's coming, but the other part doesn't want to accept it.

"McNally?"

"I won't be at work for a while. I don't know exactly how long." She answers.

"I understand. You never took any time off after what happened." He takes it as a request for personal leave, and he hides his sigh of relief at her not asking what he was expecting her to.

For a minute, she considered just leaving him with his own conclusion. It makes things a lot simpler. But she owes him for what he's done for her these last two months.

"Sir-" she starts, but pauses at the look he gives her. "Frank, I'm not taking personal time."

"Explain." Frank feels his heart sink a little bit.

"They contacted me last night."

"Who? You mean…" He gestures towards the stack sitting on his desk.

"Yeah." She nods.

"What did they propose?" He pulls out a pen and writes down what she has to say.

"I'm meeting them tonight. They say they'll give me Nick."

"Just give him to you? No payment or anything?" He looks up from what he's writing.

"No." She shakes her head.

"Andy… you know the odds of him actually being there-" He starts.

"Yes, Frank, I am well aware of the odds." Andy snaps at him.

"Then you know how potentially dangerous this could be."

"Yes." She whispers.

"I think you're making a stupid decision."

"Frank… we have a chance." She says quietly as she slips into a chair. "You've been in this office with me every morning for the last two months. You know that we've spent hours looking at reports we have memorized. We've refused to stop looking at them because we can't allow this case to go cold. He's our friend. And if we stop looking, who else will? I know you're taking pressure from the higher ups to just give it up and let him go."

Frank nods.

"I know he's alive. Nick and I spent 6 months infiltrating this organization, and I know that if he was dead, they would've dumped the body. They've been interrogating him… Isn't it just hilarious that we made it through 6 months undercover, but a month back on the job and we get sloppy and let them get to us?" She says with a dry laugh.

"What do they want?"

"I'm not completely sure yet." She confesses.

"If it was anybody else, I would do anything in my power to stop them…" Frank trails off.

"So why not me?" she inquires

"Because I know you won't take no for an answer. And if anyone can pull it off, it's you. After that undercover operation, you really changed. When you guys came back, you were focused, and confident, and an Andy McNally that knew she could do anything. Don't lose that, but don't count on it either."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… you are more than capable of pulling this off and getting both of you home. But don't let that knowledge make you sloppy. Don't think you can cut corners. You're good… But they are too. And if you get sloppy, they'll be better. Other than that, keep your wits about you. Stay focused, and watch your back. But most importantly, come home."

"I'll try," she settles for, know that she can't make any promises.

"Good luck, McNally."

"Yeah." She stands from her seat and walks out the door.

Frank walks towards the windows and pulls back the shades as he watches her go.


	3. Chapter 3

In the early morning hours, while most of Toronto is sleeping, a woman stands in the doorway of her son's room, holding her favorite picture of she and her best friend. She watches her son sleep, comforted by the rise and fall of his chest, and she silently prays for the safety of the woman, who after her mother's death a few short months ago, quickly became the most important woman in her life.

O-O-O-O

A man makes a trip to the kitchen to pour himself a shot of whiskey. He leans back against the counter and swirls the Amber liquid around his tumbler. He tries to remember when being the boss became so difficult, but his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of cries coming through the baby monitor sitting on the counter next to him. He walks up the stairs and takes his crying baby into his arms, gently bouncing her up and down on his shoulder. She finally quiets, but he keeps her in his arms while he gazes out the nursery window. He doesn't hear his wife enter the room until her arms slide around him and she whispers, "She'll be okay, Frank."

God, he hopes so.

O-O-O-O

Another man, who has no baby to comfort and no wife to comfort him, has been sitting at his couch the entire night. His elbows are on his knees and he's hunched over the coffee table that is home to a bottle of scotch. Not his first choice of a liquid depressant, but it was the first bottle he laid his hands on and honestly, he stopped tasting it after the third glass. It was after that same glass that he decided to forego the glass as a whole, instead gulping from the bottle itself. His phone rests next to the bottle, his forefinger deftly sliding across the screen every few seconds, scrolling through all the pictures he has of her. He understands the choice she made, he really does. Had it been Jerry or Oliver, he knows he would have done the same thing, but it doesn't make it any easier to sit on the sidelines, not knowing what's going down or what's happening, especially since he knows what Nick's captors are capable of. He's screaming on the inside, just wishing with everything he is that he'll get another chance to tell her how he feels, and hoping that when he does, she'll be able to hear it.

O-O-O-O

And yet another woman sits in her car with her phone in her hand. She stares at the background of her screen, which is set as her favorite picture of them. She's laughing, Sam's smirking, both of their eyes are sparkling, it makes her flashback to the time after she and Nick came home from their UC, before all of this happened. That month was one of the happiest of her life. They finally poured out their feelings for each other and they didn't make up silly reasons why they couldn't be together, they went on dates and hung out with friends… they just _were_. They were themselves, they were happy, they were everything the other needed and then some. She tells herself she's staring at the phone because she's waiting for the call about a meeting place, but she knows she's lying to herself. She never realized how much a single photograph could mean to someone... But this one means more to her than anyone will ever know. So she continues studying the photograph and runs her fingers over his name in her contacts list, just praying to god that she'll be able to come home to him.

* * *

2 hours later, after dozing off in her car and being jolted awake by her phone ringing, Andy looks at her surroundings as she pulls into an old shipping wharf just outside Old Toronto that they directed her to. She's been to this wharf more than a few times, due to the fact that as a child, she was fascinated by the history held within abandoned shipyards. They were alluring and mysterious, and it seemed as if she asked her dad to take her every day as a child. But now, she'd rather be anywhere but here. She shifts the car into park and releases her seat belt before stepping out and leaning against the hood of the car. A black sedan idles 100 feet away from where she stands and 3 men stand in front of it. The man in front, obviously the boss, nods towards a tall brunette standing near the trunk.

She holds her breath without even realizing it as they open the door to the back seat. She twirls the strings on her sweatshirt around her finger and taps her foot while one of the men speaks to the occupant of the vehicle. Her tapping grows faster as two brown boots firmly plant themselves on the loose gravel, and she can hear it crunch under his weight as his head rises above the door and he locks his gaze on her. A smile spreads across her face as her feet start carrying her towards him.

"Nick!" She half cries, half laughs while she runs towards him. He smiles and holds his arms out towards her. She wraps her arms around him equally as tight as he does to her, and they stay like that for a few precious moments. It isn't until they pull away that she sees how much weight he's lost.

"Let's go, Ms. McNally." One of the men sneers at her and she's reminded of the predicament she got herself into.

"Andy, what did you do?" Nick asks her.

"Give us a minute." She says to the men behind her.

"Listen." She turns back towards Nick. "You're going to get in that car and drive away, okay?" She points towards her car.

"Not without you." He tightens his hold on her arms.

"I'm not giving you a choice." She hands him a flash drive and looks over her shoulder to make sure the men aren't watching. "You know all those questions they asked you these last two months? You know how you didn't know the answers?"

"Wha-, how do you know about that?"

"Because I'm the one with the answers. God, I _knew_ I should've told you, but I thought it would be best to leave you out of it."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was still working undercover when we came back. I got made and they grabbed both of us that day we were on patrol. They held us for 2 weeks because they didn't know which one of us it was, so they guessed, but they guessed wrong. They kidnapped you and interrogated you and tortured you for all I know… and it's all my fault." She looks down as tears fall from her eyes.

"Don't blame yourself, not for this. Okay?" He puts his hands on her face and tilts her head to look at him. "I'm fine. You got me home."

"I promised I would, didn't I?" Andy smiles. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the gravel crunching behind her. "We don't have any more time. Take that flash drive to Frank. It's everything he needs to know. Don't argue about it. Get in my car and drive away."

"Andy-" Nick starts.

"I know, Nick, I know." She cuts him off. "Give that to Frank, tell everyone where this went down. I'll be okay." She gives him one more hug.

"I can't just let you do this." Nick says.

"It was the only way I could bring you home. And I wasn't going to break that promise." She walks away and looks over her shoulder as she gets in the backseat.

Nick watches as the engine of the black sedan comes to life, and his hand balls into a fist around the flash drive as the car drives away.

* * *

**When my sister read this, there was one place she was confused. The paragraph about Frank, his wife is Noelle. I forgot that they weren't married yet, but when I thought about it, this is 8 months after the finale, so I'm just gonna call it author's privilege and say they were married right after Nick and Andy came back.**

**Let me know what you thought about the chapter!  
**


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